


I Won't Budge (until you nudge)

by tazersassets (ADeepSoulOfDarkness)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Bit light on the Holster/Ransom ground sorry!, M/M, Masturbation, Yeah there is who am I kidding?, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 05:38:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2761610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADeepSoulOfDarkness/pseuds/tazersassets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The great thing about going to Samwell was that everybody was comfortable. People were comfortable with him, with themselves, it was brilliant. But sometimes. Sometimes Eric Bittle wished the Samwell hockey team were just… a little less comfortable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Won't Budge (until you nudge)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stevebucky (Oona)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=stevebucky+%28Oona%29).



> So, first of all, I'm so sorry this is a day late - family issues did arise :(
> 
> But on to lighter things- Ah. 'Swawesome Santa, this was so much fun it's unreal - I'm so glad that I was able to take part in it. 
> 
> I give all credit to Ngozi for all the characters, the comic and all the stress that she puts up with ! Check Please! is a fabulous comic and I love every page of it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this Oona, I'm sorry if it's not up to scratch, it's my first proper attempt at writing fic and I apologize if I have flopped spectacularly!
> 
> That's about it - Comments are much appreciated, good and not so good, so please feel free to say what ever you like (don't be too mean though, I'm fragile)

Woah Dick. Abs. Pecs. Dick. He couldn't help it; his mind was a broken record. That was all he could think about while he was being confronted with the true Michael - Angelo - like specimen of a man that was his captain. Jack was standing in front of him, casually toweling off his mess of wet black hair talking about… checking? Was it checking or was it the power play? Eric would never know because he was currently overwhelmed with the sheer beauty of Jack’s physical form.

Little droplets of water literally dripped off of him like something out of a glamour photo shoot. One daring little drop made the smooth trek over Zimmerman’s beautifully crafted abs. Bitty wanted to lick it. Lick him. Everywhere. Good Lord, in the name of all things holy, the man needed to cover that shit up before Bittle collapsed. 

\--------------

Bittle wasn't listening. He wasn't listening and it was starting to piss Jack off, he had this dazed look of bewilderment on his face which probably meant that not one word of what Jack had to say on vocalizing on the ice was being heard. It looked like it was passing through one ear and out the other and it frustrated him, this was important. Jack took his ‘captainly duties’, as Shitty called them, seriously and he was trying not to be a douche about it but. Bitts looked cute. What? He did not know where that thought process came from maybe if he - 

“Bittle, you need to listen. Come on. Bits… Bitty!”

“Huh?” Eric looked up from where he was staring. Where was he staring? 

“Bittle? What are you even looking at?”

“…Nothing?”

“Nothing. Sure.”

“What? I - It’s the truth?”

“Is ‘nothing’ really more interesting than talking about your on ice performance?”

“Yeah, I, I was. Um. Sorry?”

“Bitty I can –“

‘Okay , look I’m really sorry but I think I’ve left like a pie in the oven and I have to get it out, but I’ll see y’all tomorrow, okay? Bye! Sorry!’ Bitty was bright red, kind of like those strawberry tarts he liked to bake when he was nervous. Eric was awkwardly power walking out of the changing room hair still dripping and only one shoe half on, the other in his hand. He was flushed right to the tips of his ears and all down the back of his neck and Jack was idly curious – how far did that pink tint go? Oh Shit.

\--------------

The thing is, when Eric came out to Shitty, Ransom and Holster he wasn’t expecting much. Yes, he knew that Shitty was a delightful little social justice warrior and that Ransom and Holster either had something going on or were just really comfortable in a constant #nohomo zone, but that didn't stop him from worrying. People were surprising in their views and just because Shitty was all for women’s rights didn't mean he was up for the ‘Your teammate is very gay’ scenario. 

Holster and Ransom, they were buddies, everyone could see that, the best of buddies, and maybe it was only because Bitty was gay that he thought he could see the sparkling rainbow underline to their blindingly obvious BB4L ( Best Bros 4 Lyfe, in case anyone was wondering) badges but his point was - even with the prior knowledge that they had never been a bag of dicks, and probably would never intend to be a bag of dicks, it hadn't stopped him from worrying they would be a bag of dicks and disagree with his penchant for dicks (in bags?). 

It hadn't stop his throat constricting every time he had tried to get the words out, the need, the necessity to say them being over ridden by the overwhelming need to protect himself. But when he finally word vomited his way through The Big Gay Reveal, the reaction he got was exceptional. Like seriously, he wasn't expecting another 7th grade locker room incident, but maybe a few cold shoulders and a bit of distancing and space in the locker room wouldn't have been a surprise.

It didn't go like that though. Shitty was so not shitty. It seemed like Holster and Ransom had made it their personal mission to wingman the fuck out of him till literally every gay boy in all of the United States of America had had ‘a piece of the Itty Bitty Pie.’ (Not his own words.) And now he was upset. Because while everyone so far had been beyond fantastic, he was about to go shit on it by wanting to suck his captain’s dick and power snuggle with him afterwards.

\--------------

Jack strolled out of the changing room, thinking about what had happened earlier. Jack didn’t really ‘crush’ on people. When Jack was a kid he was full of life, reserved, but bouncing with energy and excitement. He never really spent time thinking about girls in the way boys supposedly do, he was too concentrated on hockey and whenever nature called and a graced him with a hard on in the morning he quite literally used to lay back and think of Canada. Specifically him wearing a Canadian jersey and winning the game winning goal in overtime while the crowd roared and surged up in a sea of red, white and maple leaf – Anyway.

Jack wasn't the kind to take interest in individuals that often. He cared about his team and his family but he didn’t really get people. He wasn't a virgin. Not by anyone’s standards, but he didn't date. It was too much effort; he usually ended up fucking it up anyway, like everything else in his life. One night stands he didn't do that often but when he did he was – to Shitty’s disgust, a ‘wham – bam – thank you mam (or, man )’ kinda guy. 

He didn't stay the night, he didn't leave a number, and he got off both persons involved with as little ceremony as possible. It was a means to an end. He didn't necessarily care about the gender, but dudes weren't often an option – just another way for the Once Golden Zimmerman Boy to be a disappointment and tarnish the Zimmerman name. So this new development of … feelings, for Bitty were unsettling to say the least.

\--------------

Sometimes Ransom and Holster would shout through the kitchen door ‘Today is a Special Pie Day Bitts!’ Those days usually started with an evening of Ransom and Holster encouraging Bitty with shouts and hollers to ‘Just fucKING DOWN IT FOR GLORY, FOR SPARTA’ while the shining lights of the nearest gay club made Bitty’s head hurt and eyes shine. They usually ended with Rans and Holster trying to get that built, 6’2 guy in the corner to look twice at Eric, with varying levels of success – either Bitty was too far gone on those freakishly green and pink alcoholic concoctions masquerading as drinks, so he was passed out over their table or he was shaking his fine booty the inevitable Beyoncé song blaring out of the speakers. 

Those nights led to a morning of pain on differing parts of his body, sometimes it was a pounding headache that seemed to always pulse just above his eye which was also partnered in perfect harmony with the unbearable dryness of his lips and the scratchy feeling in his throat. And other times it was a nice, well-fucked pain and a dull ache like a well pressed bruise, brought about by that 6’2 in the corner who decided his booty shaking to Beyoncé was a turn on instead of a turn off. On these mornings, when he sauntered down into the kitchen on a Sunday morning, at a sinfully late time, one of the boys was often hanging around in the kitchen. If it were Ransom or Holster there would be a back slap or a congratulatory fist bump waiting for him, but if Jack was there, he’d just look. Look and judge?

No. He just blushed, like Bitty had come down the stairs naked as the day he was born. The thing is though, he would never bring it up, never say anything about Eric’s once in a while hook – ups. Bitty would say that he knew, he knew everything, but the guys he picked up were out of The Haus before dawn broke and they were quiet too. Nobody wanted to be caught on the walk of shame in a frat house. Especially after a quick but thorough blowie with another dude. Bitty may not be the most masculine guy but surely Jack was clueless. That was what Shitty was always saying, the man was socially and emotionally impaired. He couldn't know. It was impossible.

\--------------

He got it. He liked Bitty. He liked Bitty a lot. Unfortunately coming to that realization, accepting that slightly unsettling truth didn't make it any better. Actually, it kinda made it all worse. Before the ‘oh shit Bitts is hot’ stage, he looked but didn’t watch. He touched but didn’t linger. At first he hadn't been attracted to Bitty at all - he was too loud, too 'out - there', but as time wore on he became drawn like a moth to a flame.Now he had to make a concentrated effort not to touch. Sometimes, on the mornings when Eric came down more rumpled than usual, wearing sweatpants too big and no shirt Jack found it difficult. 

It would be so easy to just, reach out and smooth his tousled blond hair out of his sleepy eyes, kiss him on the cheek and try and help with Sunday morning pancakes. Jack wasn't used to these thoughts; they were odd thoughts to have really. Why the fuck did he want to be domestic and shit with one of his teammates? But the way Bittle stretched like a cat in the sun made Jack want to bite the juncture of his neck. 

Bitty’s sweatpants always pooled around his feet on the floor, they were probably the only ratty piece of clothing he had in his color coded wardrobe and Jack loved them. They were threadbare and when Bitty bent over just right, Jack could imagine himself slotting behind him, smoothing his hands down Bitty’s lightly tanned expanse of compact muscle that he called a chest, and resting himself against that perfect ass. This was all quite impressive for Jack, he wasn't known for his imagination skills, but Bitty – as always, seemed to make everything infinitely easy and hard at the same time.

\--------------

So, the Samwell hockey team were very comfortable in the locker room. Even those who knew he was gay were super chill. And that made it difficult to avoid Jack and his gorgeousness. Jack was a Canadian God and nothing had changed. 

Jack Zimmerman was the kind of guy who was two years ahead of you in high school, the guy who was captain of the football team, had a great car and the great hair to match. He was the guy who you ogled from afar and pretty blatantly too because you were a lower life form, they would never notice you.

It was fine though! Bitty was fine, totally okay with that. He had come to terms with the situation. But Jack did make it any easier, waltzing around the locker room with his cock out. He was just really fucking hot okay? And Bitty was a repressed southern belle with a protective streak a mile wide.

It wasn't just about the whole ‘Jack’s ass is as hot as the Sun.’ He found himself going to Shitty to talk it out. Shitty was a good listener. And lecturer. 

“I just. Every time I don’t listen he looks like a sad puppy and I get feelings and I want to cuddle him and kiss him and do many other things to him but also talk to him because he is just a lovely boy and - " 

Shitty plopped down next to him on the bed and shook the shoulder of the hand that wasn't holding the rum and coke. 

“ Dude. Chill. It’s fine, Jack has a massive feelings boner for you too. He may not show it to the general population, but to those of us that are Jack specialists he’s projecting the warm fuzzies all over the goddamn place.” 

Bitty was listing to the side and this point, he wasn't too drunk just pleasantly buzzed, and he was aware enough that he put his Christmas Mug filled with alcohol and fizz on his bedside table.

‘But the difference is Shitty, is I have, like, all the warm fuzzy feelings and actual boner feelings! Jack may have a friendly feelings boner but I am almost certain that he is totally flaccid in the boner boner department’ Shitty looked at him. Then looked some more. Then ever so slowly raised a singular eyebrow. 

‘Boner Boner’ 

Eric nodded furiously 

‘Yup. It’s quite upsetting’

\--------------

Jack would never, ever in a million years make a move. Never. Nope. Nada. No matter what sly hints Shitty kept sending him Jack would never be entirely convinced Eric actually liked him more than as a casual teammate. He probably spent as much time around everyone else as he did with Jack, he was one of those people, everyone liked him. So maybe Jack preened a little bit more in the locker room? Nobody was going to notice.

“Keep it up Zimmerman and I’m going to start thinking you’re wanting an audience!” Goddamn it Ransom. The team burst out laughing, he could hear Shitty cackling.

“Work it, Work it, Work it” Holster was trying to imitate a thumping bass. It wasn’t working. Bitty was doubled over giggling in his stall; Jack almost smiled but then -

“How much do you usually haul in tips, Cap?”

“Oh fuck off”

"I’ll pay double if you strut your stuff in a Canadian flag!” Nursery was so picking up all the pucks after practice, he was getting too cocky for a frog. Jack sat down with a huff of air out of his nose. Bastards.

“You’re all bastards, suicides tomorrow.’ 

There was a chorus of groans from the locker room as everyone started to grumble at what a kill joy he was. Jack looked up, Bitty was at his stall, flush high on his chest, pulling on his stupid fluffy reindeer socks, with the last traces of a smirk on his face. Jack still wouldn't make a move.

\--------------

It was getting ever closer to Christmas and Eric was walking down the corridor, on the way out of the rink when he stopped dead. He’d forgotten his mittens; he had awful circulation in his hands and feet Grandma Bittle had knitted them for him last Christmas with little mince pies on them. Last week he’d been wearing his reindeer socks and this week it was the mittens. 

It was no shocker that the guys found it hilarious but Bitty was fine, his hands and feet were always toasty; those freezing motherfuckers couldn't say that. So Bitty turned on his heel and quickly walked back into the locker room, he looked around. No mice pie mittens. He could have sworn they were on the bench but maybe, maybe he was thinking of one of the benches next to the rink. He doubted it though; he never took his mittens in to the rink. He went to check just in case, rubbing his hands together all the while. But his search yielded nothing.

Maybe one of the boys had taken them and hid them or something? Ugh, hockey players were so unimaginative. Bitts went back into the changing room and tried to think of where they could be – maybe behind the lockers? He crawled on his hands and knees and tried to look between the wall and the dusty metal. Still no sign of his mittens! His life was so hard. 

He went around to the front of the lockers again and just as he was about to get off his knees – the mittens! He could see them, lying haphazard on the floor under the bench. Eric reached under and picked them up. As he made his way out of the locker room he dusted his mittens off and started to pull them on.

He was about to cross the threshold of the room when he heard the stream of the showers. Huh. Someone was late out of the rink, he hadn't heard them when he had come in – he must have been too distracted with the lost mittens. Then a thought occurred to him.

Now, Bitty wasn't much of a practical joker, he was more of a free pecan pie and hugs kinda guy, but earlier that week Shitty, with the help of Dex apparently, had filled his old blue Toms with toothpaste. They may have been falling apart at the seams and smelling a bit, but Eric was attached! He’d been spending the better part of the days following that special little gift trying to think of a way to get him back. 

Shitty always did hang around after practice, the older guys usually were the last to leave the locker room – and it definitely wasn't Rans or Holster; he had seen them leave together earlier. He was pretty sure Jack had gone out with the team for Lunch… so why not scare Shitty shitless? Just in case it was someone else in there, he went slowly so he could slip away and not be a creeper.

It was pretty harmless, he didn't really like hurtful pranks, but Shitty was a good sport. He also happened to be a drama queen, who usually shrieked like a girl. Honestly, he was the only person who would carry out the role of victim well enough. So Bitty crept round to the showers.

Slowly, slowly he inched closer and closer. The closer he got the louder the shower became. Usually Shitty sang at the top of his lungs but when Eric listened all he could hear was the patter of the water and … panting? And a groan? The only thought that went through Bitty’s mind was ‘Oh my Gosh, someone must be hurt!’ He turned the corner, at the ready to come to Shitty’s rescue, all thoughts of his prank forgotten when. Oh. Oh no. Or oh yes? He honestly didn't know. What he did know, thought, was that all thoughts of rescues were now out of his head as well. And that definitely wasn't Shitty.

\--------------

Jack was busy leaning with his back against the wall of the shower, the water from the shower hitting his chest over and over. He didn't like to do this often; it was too risky – also kind of gross? But today was an exception. Today Bitty had been gorgeous. He’d been streaking up and down the ice, flush high on his cheeks, chewing on his mouth guard and doing these stupid fucking little spins that looked like they were right out of an Olympic Ice Dance routine. All he’d needed was a spangley leotard to emphasize that perfect ass. So here he was, fucking jerking one out to Eric Bittle in the locker room showers, because his hard on would not drop - even when Chowder had said that he hadn't changed his socks in a week because of a lucky streak. Fucking goalies man. 

Jack sped up, stripping his hand over his dripping cock faster, rougher, the muscles in his arm straining. His hair was flicking in his eyes; it was start to piss him off, so he brought his free hand up to scrape it off his forehead. He skimmed his palm across the wet head of his dick and flinched, the hand in this hair gripped the strands tighter. He could feel his eyelashes clumped together on his cheeks. He pictured Bitty. Just Bitty. Naked. And looking at him, smiling, with that glimmer in his eyes, the one he got when he’d had a good idea. He pictured his fingers, his fingers sinking in to him.

His mouth fell open into an ‘O’ and a bunch of little pants and groans fell out of it. But he was still in the locker room, so he couldn't make too much noise. Everyone would be gone by now, he was sure, but still. He sank his teeth down in to his bottom lip and felt himself get closer to the edge. Arching his back, he twisted his wrist around his cock head while bringing his other hand down to play with his nipples and he was right there, so close just – he heard a whimper. Someone was there. He turned his head frantically looking for who it was and then he saw him. Bitty. Standing with his mouth open and gaping, obviously hard in his skinny jeans, hands clenched at his sides. Jack came.

\--------------

Bitty was running, he was running as fast as he thought was possible with a stiff one. He could barely see but he didn't need to, he knew the path so well. He ran up the stairs of The Haus, into bedroom and slammed the door behind him. Eric threw himself on the bed. Shit. Panic was finally setting in. What on God’s holy earth would his mother say? Creeping on a good Canadian boy like that, and liking it. He was so going to hell. What did he think he was doing? Jack was probably going to be so mad. He would ask Bitty to leave the team. The Haus. He might even have to transfer schools, Oh Good Lord what if Jack pressed charges? He’d be totally in his right too. Bitty was so ashamed of himself, he’d never be able to show his face again. Why was he such an idiot? At that moment he hated himself more than words could say.

\--------------

Jack was thinking about retracting his earlier statement of not making a move. He was jogging back to The Haus. After Bitty had bolted Jack had stood under the spray for a bit, stunned, with come sliding off his fingers, then he jumped into action, grabbing his towel and hurrying to get changed. He made his way back to The Haus and to Eric’s room. He had to talk to Bitty.

However, he found it was easier said than done, as he burst into Bitty’s room and just stood there, lost for words. Bitty leaped up from where he was lying face down on the bed. The desperation was written all over his face.  
“Jack. I am so so sorry, from the bottom of my heart I apologies and I’ll never go near you again - ” Jack flinched. “I can move out of The Haus if you want, I’ll - ”  
“Bitty” Jack tried to get a word in edge - ways but Bitts just kept on going.  
“- I promise Jack I won’t even make eye contact just please - ”  
“No, Bitts I - ”

“Jack, I’m begging you, please let me stay on the team, I swear on my mother’s life I will never - ”

“BITTY” Eric startled. He’s mouth snapped shut. His eyes turned down to the floor. Jack clenched his fists by his sides and stepped closer. 

“Eric, I… I, I want us to bone”

“Sorry?”

“Uh. No sorry, that was wrong, um I want us to… screw? And hold hands, and maybe kiss. A lot”

“Jack, correct me if I am mistaken, but I just violated you and you’re asking me to date you? What is going on?”

“Well…”

“Jack Laurent Zimmerman if this turns out to be one colossal prank, so help me, I will skin you and wear you as a coat.” 

“What? God no - it's not a joke, Bitty I like you.” Eric raised one suspicious eyebrow.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean if you don’t like me that’s fine, Oh shit. You don’t do you. Fuck, Bitts I’m sorry I’ll just …” Then Bitty stepped forward, onto Jack’s toes actually, and kissed him. His eyes were closed but Jacks were wide open in surprise, he didn't really have time to register anything before Bitty was stepping away and smiling shyly down at his socked feet.

“I was jerking off thinking about you.” Bitty looked up, eyes round with shock.

Shit.

**Author's Note:**

> And then Bitty jumped him.


End file.
